


fantasmes

by champagnefluff



Category: Carmen Sandiego (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:22:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23888146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/champagnefluff/pseuds/champagnefluff
Summary: During his time in the hospital, his dreams shifted between a mundane reality and an otherworldly unknown.
Relationships: Julia "Jules" Argent/Chase Devineaux
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	fantasmes

During his time in the hospital, his dreams shifted between a mundane reality and an otherworldly unknown. 

Chase entered the café from the outside void, and at first glance it appeared completely normal, but there was an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. He felt like he was in a place where he did not belong; much like a child who had entered a room that was forbidden to him. The room was empty save for the barista at the counter and a figure near the window. The barista faced the other way and would not turn to him when he tried to place an order. So instead, he went toward the seated figure near the bright window.

As he neared the figure, he came to realize that it was a woman. Her face was obscured and blurry like a photograph that hadn't yet finished developing, but there was something in his heart that told him he knew her.

Chase opened his mouth but found himself unable to speak. His limbs felt heavy and he struggled to lift them. The woman stood from her chair and leaned up to whisper something in his ear, and when she pulled back he finally knew who she was, her face clear as day.

It was Miss Argent. She looked at him with glassy eyes, her brow furrowed. Again, Chase tried to speak but was unable to form the words he wanted to say. He felt a distant sense of frustration, dulled by something in his mind, but he managed to say her name. Her features relaxed, and wordlessly, she pulled him forward gently to embrace him.

She shouldn't be treating him so kindly, so gently. He knew he didn't deserve it. But he couldn't bring himself to pull away from her, and his leaden arms wrapped around her of their own accord, his right fist bunching up in the fabric of the back of her shirt. 

He finally found his voice, hollow as it was, "I am sorry."

And he truly was. That night in the parking garage... it felt like years ago, now. He turned his head slightly, his jaw pressing against the top of her head and he marveled at the way her small frame fit against his so perfectly; her arms fitted neatly across his aching ribs and his reaching so flawlessly around her shoulders. He sighed, and she pulled back to look up at him, taking his chin in her delicate fingers. Julia stood taller, stretching up on her toes to reach him, and he found himself dipping his head forward to meet her. His heart thumped in his ears, accompanied by a faraway beeping sound. Just before his lips met hers, she had disappeared, and he was alone with only her voice surrounding him.

"Please wake up," came the ghost of her voice from somewhere to his right, and he was left in a white void.

He hung onto that voice in the fog, the soft tones keeping him calm. He was able to feel the pressure of something pressed into his palm, the faint scent of mint, and slender fingers closing his hand around an object. The contact lingered there momentarily -- a ghost of a touch -- before disappearing and leaving him in the dark again. When he finally woke, he was left with nothing but a package of mints on the table next to the bed and the misty memory of his dreams.

Chase saw her only once, nearly two months later. She was dressed smartly in her new suit, her glasses switched for darker lenses. She stood a little taller than he remembered. Her chin was lifted a little higher as if something was pulling at her from above, like a marionette on strings. He took a single step toward her before stopping, the chief's words ringing in his ear: _forget you know her_. She turned her head then, her gaze finally locking with his, and a flicker of recognition passed through her eyes.

 _Any contact could jeopardize her safety_. He would never forgive himself.

His hand twitched at his side, and he briskly turned and walked away. 

That night he found himself at the bottom of a bottle, a cigarette dangling from his fingers as he stared out his window. Red threads were strewn about what was once a dining room table. It was unexpected, the way he had come to miss her. He hated it, how much he longed for her to be at his side again. He hated the way he wished to hear her voice in his ear. He hated how he yearned for her to touch his arm once more. He hated himself most of all. He did not deserve to love her.

The dreams persisted, however. Sometimes she would appear cold and distant and it made his heart ache. He would fall to his knees before her and beg for her to forgive him, and she would look down on him from behind those dark lenses and say nothing. Other times, she would pull him up from the ground like she did on the night he had fallen into the river. She would kiss him softly and he would unravel in her elegant hands. She took his breath away, leaving him gasping for air when he rose from his bed in the morning light.

Chase had hit a dead end. What was the pattern? _What was the pattern?_ He had tangled himself in the red threads so tightly they threatened to choke him, and he fell back into his chair in defeat. What would she think of him now? He closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair before it dropped weakly upon his lap.

  
"What would Julia think?"

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't think of a good ending I'm sorry.


End file.
